And so, we find ourselves talking about building systems that “remove the human element” to increase reliability, improve safety, enhance speed, and reduce errors.

Consequences

These are good goals. There are, indeed, many tasks to which computers or machines are far better suited than humans.

But … if we only ever talk about “removing the human element”, one day we may succeed at achieving that goal. We might wake up to find ourselves in a sterile world of cold machines. Every quantity measured, every metric optimised, every relationship shared, every experience liked, every review accurate & thorough, every interaction managed.

I do not anticipate many smiles in such a world. Not much laughter. Little joy.

Choices

Instead, why not increase the human element. Let us pour more humanity into our tools, our systems, our machines. Let us make things that lead to increased humanity.

Undoubtedly, this will require us to shift some tasks to computers. Good! We humans are overburdened in the information age, and machines are designed to do things that we do poorly. Cognitive resources are scarce and precious. Design decisions that alleviate these burdens are valuable. They free up a certain amount of “human element” …

So, perhaps, we should consider this in our designs. When “removing the human element”, look for ways to re-inject it in a more meaningful area. Help us to spend our newly available reserve of human element on things that really matter.

Notes

Where do communities come from? All too often, we see fully formed things, and forget that they haven’t always been this way.

The heart is people, not space – “There can be no collaboration without collaborators.”

Trust is the most valuable natural resource for communities

Optimism is a fuel that drives; it changes the scale of your perspectice, goals, and actions

Choice makes an enormous difference. If everyone has chosen to participate, it’s a totally different ball game

People don’t care about the things they share, unless they care about the people they share them with

Culture must be shown, not told; owned, not assigned.

Sharing a worldview & common purpose is super critical.

Worldview is polarising – it is a powerful (and useful) filter for the people who want to join your community.

A community which is merely a well people come to drink from, is a depleting resource, and an unhealthy community.

The bigger/fancier/more polished the space, the harder it is to see the culture, the people, and the community.

Look past the place … see the people.

Sometimes, friction is good, e.g. an empty coffee pot (rather than refilled by staff) prompts people to talk to others to learn to make coffee. Thus both building a new connection to the community, and beginning to contribute to it in a new way.

Empowering community members: “We should do <x>” “That sounds great! What do you need to be able to do it?”

Indyhall’s design principles (for desk layout etc…)

Make it hard for poeple to sit by themselves

Increase the odds that people will sit next to new people

These are intended to “accelerate serendipity”

Convert the change-resistant to be your evangeslists. Help them see the value that they personally have gained from the changes.

“If it’s important to you, here’s an opportunity to get involved & use your interest/passion to help everyone.”

The connections & relationships between people are the most importantthing for a thriving community.

It’s the embarassment, that I’ve failed – and it feels like everyone can see.

It’s the lost opportunity – my horse has run on without me, and my own two legs will never carry me fast enough to catch up to it.

And it’s the fear – that maybe everyone else will think I belong in the mud, that I never deserved a horse in the first place.

Looking ahead, I see everyone else riding confidently off into the sunset, and am convinced that they are all secretly laughing at me. That I alone have fallen into the mud, and will never again rejoin the company of riders.

Heh.

Mud blind us. It paralyses us with fear, guilt, embarassment, loss, and isolation. It turns our own faculties against us, deceiving us until we begin to wonder if we deserve to be trapped here in the mud-puddle for all of time.

And so we worry.

“If I stand back up again – if I try to catch my horse, or saddle a new one – I’ll only end up falling back into the cold slimy mud.”

It sounds so reasonable, so sensible, so very mature & clever & careful.

But when you’re reasoning from the mud-puddle, there’s only one truth that matters.

“I really think that this flow needs to be more intuitive to the user.”

Ugh.

What’s in our UX future?

All too often, when we present a design to others, the discussion seems to get out of control.

Each person has their own, strongly held opinions on what the solution should look like – and sometimes it seems that everyone is trying to solve different problems, too!

This is where UX principles come in.

A UX principle is simply an answer to the question “What will our product be like?”

It doesn’t delve into how you’ll build the product.

But it helps you choose between different ‘how’s.

Valuable discussions

As you create a set of UX principles, they can foster discussions about the priorities inside a project, “We value this aspect of our UX, over this other one.”

They serve as a vehicle for building shared understanding, for gaining agreement that “yes, this is what we’re trying to achieve” – especially if you create them working together with the other members of the project.

And, best of all, they can help you end that nightmare meeting.

“Well, we all agreed that it was really important that ‘The next step must always be obvious to the user.’ Which of these design decisions gets us closest to that goal?”

Bliss.

(and lunch!)

If you’re interested in learning more about UX principles and how to build them, I highly recommend Jared Spool’s excellent article on creating great principles here.